Gemotions

The news had been delivered with bureaucratic blandness, but for Elara, it was a day of silent triumph. She stood at the edge of her garden, the air around her thick with the scent of freshly turned earth and decaying leaves. The space where the willow tree, planted by her father in her infancy, had once danced in the wind, was vacant.

A weight she hadn't realized she was carrying lifted from her shoulders. She twirled, a brief, spontaneous movement. Her lips curved upward in a smile that seemed to defy the somber season. Now, the sun would reach the herb garden.

She imagined the vibrant blooms of the sunflowers she would plant in its place.